His Mind Palace
by InsanityXJeff
Summary: A story dedicated to Sherlock's mind palace. What is was before he met John, and how it slowly changes with time. Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.


Sherlock ran through the halls of the castle, passing through patches of sunlight and shade from the windows. When he came upon the throne room, he burst in suddenly, and everyone turned and stared at him. He looked around for a moment longer, before kneeling down on one knee and bowing his head.

"Your highness, there has been an emergency."

"Yes. I know." The king calmly replied. He sat lazily in his thrown with his silver crown crooked on his head of ebony curls. "The baker and the goat?"

"Yes, sire. I-I can't solve this case! I've been at it for days without any luck."

"You've already solved it. I solved it, once I noticed your incompetence. It was the barber."

"The barber? But your majesty, I went through the case and his file multiple times-"

"Did you notice the parking break was off?" The king smiled, and Sherlock opened his mouth in realization.

"No, I didn't your majesty. That was obvious. Stupid, stupid!" He shook his head and mentally kicked himself in the rear for being so stupid.

"Yes, it was. Sherlock?" Everyone standing in the room turned their heads and spoke in unison.

"Your majesty?" The king huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Sherlock eighty-four and Sherlock thirty-six." Two men, one on the far right and the other near the king's left, stepped forward.

"Sire?"

"Escort Sherlock nineteen to the dungeon, and plan his execution with Sherlock one hundred-five for tomorrow morning at seven."

"Yes, sire." The two men walked over to Sherlock nineteen and hooked their arms with his, dragging him away.

"No, please, your majesty! Please, let me live!"

"Your pleas do not phase a heart of stone." The king relaxed back into his chair as the man was hauled away, and the doors sealed tightly behind him. Sherlock looked around the throne room of his mind palace, until he heard a distant voice in his head.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, answer me!" He blinked his eyes, and was no longer looking at the inside of his castle, but the main room of the flat. John was snapping his fingers in Sherlock's face.

"What is it, John? I'm busy!"

"Doing what?"

"Planning executions." The detective mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?"

"Nothing. I was thinking."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Yes, I was in my mind palace."

"Only our second day as flat mates, and I already have a list of things you do that annoy me."

"What do you want, John?"

"Lestrade just called, he wants to know about the baker and the goat."

"Is that all? Phone him and tell him it was the barber. Now, can I go back to my mind palace?" Sherlock glared up at John from his seat on the sofa, and John blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, alright. I'll tell him." The doctor walked away, and Sherlock concentrated until he was back in his throne. He smiled, and stood up.

"Sherlock twenty-eight, mind the throne room. I'm going out."

"Yes, Sherlock one your highness." Sherlock walked out into the hallway. Hundreds upon hundreds of large wooden doors with metal doorknobs filled his castle. Many were filled with knowledge and memories, and many others stood empty. He walked to the end of the hallway and turned left to a door that was, unlike the others, painted a dark green. He stepped outside to a small balcony that looked out over the courtyard. The throne room was placed in the center of his castle, so he could see mostly everything from his balcony. Directly below him were the royal gardens. He could smell the sweet aroma from the roses that the gardener, Sherlock ten, were tending to. The sun shined through puffy white clouds in the summer sky. A warm breeze carressed Sherlock's face, and he sighed. To his right, a small river ran through the courtyard. To his left, there was a bridge constructed entirely of white stone. It was broken in the middle, and led to nowhere. Even the king didn't know what the point of that bridge was. He sat on the edge of the railing and stared at it, trying to figure out why it was there. He was broken from his thoughts by the sound of barking behind him. He turned and smiled at Redbeard. The dog was allowed to go wherever he pleased in the castle, and he was always running around looking for Sherlock. He jumped up to the detective, who rubbed his face and smiled lovingly.

"Good boy, Redbeard." He turned his attention back to the bridge, and the dog looked that way with him. He whined and perked up his ears. Sherlock looked down at him, and patted him on the head.

"How about we go over there?" Redbeard barked, and they went back into the hallway and exited onto a long winding staircase. Guards in bright metal armor opened the door that led out onto the bridge for them. The king walked with his hands behind his back, and Redbeard followed behind. The bridge seemed to be endless, and the further out they went, the plainer the scenery became. They passed tall, aged forests, and lush, green meadows. Then there was nothing but plain open fields. Eventually, the land faded into white, and all that was around them was pale nothingness. Like being trapped in a black hole, only this hole was white. They came upon the end of the bridge, which was broken and crumbling. Behind them there was the castle, a speck in the distance. And ahead of them was nothing but empty air. Sherlock scrunched up his face in thought, and his dog looked up at him in confusion. He walked over and layed his head down at his feet.

"I don't know, Redbeard. It's my own bloody castle and I don't even know what this bridge is. I don't like not knowing." The dog cocked his head to the left and whined. Sherlock smiled, and picked him up in his arms. Redbeard barked, and licked his face.

"Oh, I can't be mad when I'm with you. Come on, let's go back." He set him down on the ground and they slowly made their way back to the castle. Sherlock sent Redbeard to go play in the grass, and then he explored his palace. He entered a room that he had just started filling up. The sign on the door said John Watson. The inside was empty except for a few shelves and drawers, and dust covered the floor. Sherlock sat down in the middle of the floor and crossed his legs, resting his chin on his fists. He closed his eyes to concentrate, and slowly, books and papers materialized and stacked themselves in their assigned places. Sherlock stood up and looked at his work, and then left the room, locking it behind him. He went back to the hallway leading to the throne room. Directly to the left of it's doors, there was another door, panted dark blue. The sign said The King's Room. Sherlock stepped inside and smiled. His room was a mirror of his flat, only he didn't have to constantly stop Mrs. Hudson or John from picking up. He sank down into his armchair, and tried to fall asleep. Eventually he did, but something was bothering him, and he couldn't put a name to it. He shrugged it off as best as he could, and drifted off to sleep. When he woke up, John was shaking him.

"What, John?! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Yeah, alright, but it's eight in the morning."

"So?"

"I just thought you might want me to wake you up."

"I wake up when I need to wake up. I set an alarm." Sherlock rolled back over on his side, curling up in a ball.

"You have an alarm clock?" John looked around confusedly.

"Mind palace." The detective reminded him irritably.

"Ah. Well, I guess I'll just leave you to it then."

"If you don't mind. I need to think."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I think while I sleep, John. I'm always thinking, even when I don't have a case to solve."

"Well, what are you thinking about then?"

"Anything and everything else that is important. I think about everything at once, solving multiple cases at the same time. Sometimes I shove them off to the back of my mind, so that I can solve them without having them distract me from more important things, other cases. It's a system, John. Even when I'm not thinking, I'm thinking. Got it?"

"Um, yeah, alright. I let you alone, then." The doctor walked away, and Sherlock closed his eyes once more, focusing on the serial suicides.

AN: Please review! I will post new chapters as soon as possible.


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